Anywhere
Zac hadn’t known quite what to expect from the club Taylor had taken him to; he had been so drunk at the Electric Ballroom that he hardly noticed the difference between it and any other bar. In any case, it had catered to all types, while this particular club was nearly all male.
At least, Zac thought it was. It was hard to tell, considering the way so many of them were dressed, himself included.
And Taylor–who was, as always, the star of the show.
Zac wondered if Taylor knew just how special he was. If he knew how much he stood out from a crowd, whether he tried to or not, and how much easier that had always made it for Zac to fade away into the background. He had been a teenager before he noticed that tendency in himself, and he supposed that for Taylor, being the center of attention was innate as well. It was just a part of him, and so Zac could hardly be jealous when everyone in the bar was clamoring to buy his brother a drink and slip him their phone number.
Okay, he could be a little jealous.
He sipped his own drink patiently while Taylor smiled obligingly at the latest potential suitor. Whether it was the rum or the glance Taylor shot him that made his face flush, he couldn’t say. But that glance said it all. They could flirt all they wanted—Taylor was going home with him and no one else.
“Did you come here by yourself?” Taylor asked, and Zac jumped, having been so lost in his thoughts that he hadn’t even realized his brother was free of desperate men looking for a hookup and was standing directly in front of him, a smirk on his painted lips.
“Hmm?” Zac mumbled, briefly wondering if he’d had too much to drink, before his sense of humor finally came back to him. “No, but my date has barely had time for me all night. Guess that’s what I get for picking someone out of my league.”
“He must really be something,” Taylor remarked, looking Zac up and down. “I mean, to be out of your league.”
Zac gave Taylor what he hoped past for a sultry look, then burst into giggles. “We are ridiculous. You do realize that?”
“I never claimed to be anything else,” Taylor replied, then leaned in and placed a gentle kiss to the tip of Zac’s nose. His breath was fruity and alcoholic, and it lingered for a moment, making Zac wonder if Taylor’s mouth tasted as sweet as it smelled.
He decided not to wait to find out. There was no one there who would know how wrong this was, after all; not a single person in Fort Worth knew the two of them or their true relationship. With that thought in mind, Zac put a hand on Taylor’s thin waist and pulled him close, reveling in the strange textures between them, the way that their silky clothes and stuffed bras altered the feeling of their bodies pressed together. It made the whole experience that much more exotic, more… well, more wrong, but in a way that was an intoxicating as the rum Zac quickly downed before pressing his lips to his brother’s.
Taylor kissed him back frantically, but briefly. He pulled back breathlessly after what felt like only a second, and gave Zac the most wicked smirk he had ever seen. “Let’s dance.”
“Let’s not,” Zac replied, but his words were lost in the din of loud electronic music as Taylor took him by the hand and led him onto the dance floor.
It was useless, Zac realized, to try to explain to Taylor that he was not a dancer at all. The last time he had danced was his senior prom, and he had stepped on his date’s feet no less than a dozen times. He hadn’t even wanted to go; doing anything fun and normal had seemed wrong even a full three years after the loss of his brother.
But now his brother had been found, and was doing some sort of shimmying move with his hips that made Zac’s heart jump into his throat—and other parts of his body react, as well.
“Come on,” Taylor said, the whine in his voice loud enough to be heard even over the pulsing beat of some song Zac almost recognized.
He shook his head, but he knew there was no escaping it. They were dancing. Considering the fact that he was wearing a very, very short dress, dancing wasn’t likely to be the most embarrassing thing he did that night. Slowly, he began to sway his hips, trying to mimic Taylor’s moves, even though Taylor barely had a sense of the beat at all. It didn’t matter. Within minutes, they were both lost in the music and in each other, their bodies moving frenetically, but in sync nonetheless.
The crowd around them was so large that it forced their bodies even closer together–not that Zac minded at all, and it seemed clear that Taylor didn’t either. The dance floor was teeming with bodies, the heat of them thick in the air. Zac did not even realize they had been jostled into a corner until his back collided with the wall. The jolt threatened to sober him up for a moment, but then a pleasant haze settled over him again and he smiled up at Taylor.
“This is nice,” Taylor mumbled, his lips close enough to Zac’s ear that he felt the words as much as heard them.
Secluded as they seemed to be, just down a hallway off the side of the dance floor, the thumping of the music was a bit muted, but Zac still could not seem to catch his breath. He supposed that had more to do with Taylor’s hand sliding down the side of his dress than anything else about their surroundings. When Taylor’s fingernails dug into his hip, Zac’s leg shot out to wrap around his brother’s as though it had a mind of its own.
“Please,” Zac muttered, not even knowing what he was asking for.
“Here?” Taylor asked.
Zac glanced up and down the empty hallway, and shrugged. “Anywhere.”
“You don’t mean that, but okay,” Taylor replied, that damnable smirk crossing his lips again. Zac wondered if it was liquor that cased that expression, or him. He didn’t want to flatter himself by assuming the latter, but he knew that he would do whatever he could to make Taylor look at him like that always.
“I don’t know what I mean anymore,” Zac admitted, the words breathed out against Taylor’s lips as he leaned in for another kiss. “I just know I want you. All of you. Always.”
Taylor’s cheeks might have turned a bit darker pink, but it was hard to tell under the shimmery makeup already coloring them. He turned his head a bit to instead press his kiss to the corner of Zac’s lips and replied, “Ditto. And tell me if you want me to stop.”
Zac didn’t have time to ask what that meant before Taylor was nudging his leg farther up until it was wrapped high around Taylor’s thigh. The dress hid just how strong and muscular Taylor was for someone so skinny, and Zac didn’t worry at all about whether or not he might lose his balance. He was somewhat concerned about how much of him might be exposed to the club, but given the sort of men that surrounded them, all drunk and looking for their own hookups, Zac didn’t think anyone would really notice.
With his leg lifted as it was, it was all too easy for Taylor to slide his hand up Zac’s skirt. It danced along his thigh, tickling and burning every spot his fingers touched. Tremors shot through his body as Taylor’s hand slipped into the fishnet hose covering his legs. When it found its way onto the lacy material of the panties he had borrowed from Taylor—and that was a thought that made Zac even dizzier, imagining his brother wearing that thin slip of material—Zac’s other leg threatened to give out. Thankfully, Taylor had him pinned to the wall tightly enough to prevent that from happening… and tightly enough that he could feel Taylor’s own erection pressing against his stomach.
“God,” Taylor breathed out, and Zac had to agree.
Taylor nudged the rough lace aside and wrapped his hand expertly around Zac’s dick, making Zac briefly marvel at how experienced his brother was. It was good thing one of them was, Zac decided, because he felt like he was barely treading water every time the two of them fooled around. It was much easier to let Taylor take the lead, and taking the lead he was, his lips pressed against Zac’s neck as his hand trailed down to give Zac’s balls a gentle squeeze.
Zac wanted to say something, but found himself suddenly incapable of speech. Taylor’s other hand, which he had entirely lost track of, suddenly appeared on his front, tracing the neckline of his dress and threatening to dip into it and the bra that lay beneath its very low neckline. He toyed with the lace around the edge of the bra, then trailed his finger up Zac’s neck and jawline, bringing it to rest right along Zac’s bottom lip.
“You said all of me, right?” Taylor breathed out.
Zac nodded, then parted his lips and darted out his tongue to lap at Taylor’s finger. It had only been a day or two since he’d practiced a similar maneuver on another part of Taylor’s anatomy, and Zac was finally starting to gain a little confidence in his abilities. The fact that Taylor moaned and his hand—the one currently cupping Zac’s balls—trembled only gave Zac more confidence, enough that he sucked Taylor’s finger into his mouth completely and wiggled his eyebrows a bit as he imitated what he would have done to Taylor’s dick.
The thought of dropping to his knees and shoving Taylor’s skirt up right there in the club made Zac let out a moan of his own. That sent another shockwave through Taylor’s body, and in seconds he had pulled his finger out of Zac’s mouth with an audible pop that might have made Zac laugh if he hadn’t been so turned on and unable to think of anything but Taylor’s body and all that parts of it he desired.
Taylor shifted their positions a bit, but Zac was too far gone to understand quite what was happening. He came back to he senses when he felt Taylor’s hand creeping further back, stretching the limits of his lacy panties, and one finger pressing against a part of Zac’s body that no one else had ever touched.
“Oh, fuck,” Zac breathed out, his voice sounding foreign to his own ears.
Taylor chuckled softly. “I haven’t even touched you yet. If you think this is good…”
He trailed off, but Zac’s imagination began to fill in the blanks so vividly that it was a shock to his system on multiple levels when he felt Taylor’s finger press into him. The muscles in his thighs, particularly the one wrapped around Taylor’s waist, tensed and trembled, and for a moment, Zac regretted asking Taylor for this.
But only for a moment.
A wave of pleasure swept over him as Taylor’s finger slipped further in, and when he felt Taylor’s knuckles against him, he relaxed entirely. His brother planted a soft kiss to the sensitive spot behind his left ear, as if to reassure him further. But why would Taylor ever hurt him? Why would he ever steer him wrong? It didn’t matter what anyone else had tried to convince him of over the years—Zac trusted and loved Taylor completely.
“The hotel,” Zac gasped out. “Back—let’s go back. I want… I need. But not like this.”
“Not like this,” Taylor echoed, nodding.
Still, he didn’t stop. Instead, he gave a slight flick of his wrist, beginning to thrust his finger in and out of Zac.
“Please,” Zac practically whined. He ran a hand down Taylor’s front and grasped the obvious erection straining against his brother’s tight skirt. “I said all of you.”
“You did,” Taylor agreed, pulling his finger back so quickly that it left Zac gasping for breath.
Taylor grasped Zac’s hand in his, and Zac didn’t even hesitate to think about where said hand had just been. All he knew was that he would follow Taylor anywhere. The view of his pleather-clad ass, barely covered at all by his short skirt, didn’t help, Zac thought to himself as Taylor practically dragged him through the club.
Yes, Zac thought to himself. Anywhere.